


Be Still My Foolish Heart (Move Me, Baby)

by starboydjh



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Inspired by a Hozier Song, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Title from a Hozier Song, but i'm a self indulgent hoe and wanted more irish dan in my life, dan is a vegan because god bless, dan is based on hozier so he's irish adjacent, he's still technically british, phil works for google
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboydjh/pseuds/starboydjh
Summary: Phil sees a man performing at a tube stop near his work and can't stop thinking about him. Turns out, the man can't stop thinking about him either, and takes to Twitter to try and locate Phil. This sets off a string of coincidences and at every step of the way, all of it just feels right.





	Be Still My Foolish Heart (Move Me, Baby)

**Author's Note:**

> this is entirely self indulgent because i wanted more fics where dan was irish, write what you wish to see in the world my children.
> 
> thanks to tara for betaing this and to all of my friends for listening to me scream about this for two months

Phil took his glasses off and sighed, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair at his desk. Maybe his mum was right. Staring at a computer screen all day was rotting his eyes out of his head. Or at least that’s what it felt like, if the day he’d had and the headache he felt brewing behind his eyes had anything to say about the matter. 

This particular Tuesday had been curveball after curveball in the project he was working on with his team that was concentrated on the tenth floor of Google’s London office. Being project leader had seemed amazing at the time when his boss had asked him to lead this particular update, but just thinking about it and actually doing it were two separate things, he’d realized. His boss had the final say on most of the mini projects for the update, but he was the person who delegated tasks and made sure that everyone stayed on course and didn’t fuck up too badly. 

Right now though, he was pondering if he should invest in blue light blocking coating on the lenses of his glasses as he put them back on to read an email from his coworker, who’d sent him an acoustic performance from some singer he liked. He’d never really paid attention to Mark’s taste in music before, but whatever it was, it was a nice change of pace from Phil’s usual electronic rock staples. The guy in the video was almost as pale as Phil, his hair brown rather than black and settled in a short mass of just-barely-styled curls on top of his head. His long fingers moved over a beautiful black acoustic guitar and as he sang it sounded like he had an Irish lilt to his voice. 

The almost ethereal man on the screen was interrupted by Phil’s work email pinging again, alerting him that his boss had emailed everyone on the team. This could either be good or bad, and when he opened the email, he was relieved to see that it was good. Their weekly progress meeting had been cancelled and rescheduled for the same time tomorrow. Phil didn’t really believe in a lot of things outside of the physical, but today, he was going to give his usual beliefs a pass. The only explanation he could think of as he got his stuff back into his backpack at 2:30 and got ready to go home was something beyond this realm. 

He smiled at Kiera, the peppy American girl who manned the front desk on floor ten, who smiled back at him and then called to him just as the door to the lift opened.

“Hey, Phil? You sure about going home on the train with just a hoodie on? It’s one degree outside.” The lift dinged a couple of times as Phil looked down at himself and saw that he had on his white hoodie with a fern on the front, no other jacket to be seen. 

“Thanks, I completely would’ve forgotten,” he said, walking past her and swiping his ID to let himself back into the open-plan office space. His denim jacket was still sitting draped over the back of his swivel chair, and he scooped it up quickly to run back towards the elevator. The doors were shut when he got back to the lift, but the wait gave him enough time to get his jacket on and his headphones in his ears. As he rode the lift down to the ground floor, he drowned the rest of the world out with a true-crime podcast and walked briskly through the busy streets of the downtown arts district to his tube stop. 

The stairs blocked the bitter cold just enough to make the cold tolerable, but his fingers still felt like they were freezing off as he jammed them further into his jacket’s pockets. He swore to himself that once he was officially an adult he’d get, as his mum would say, a “real” winter coat and stop wearing hoodies underneath thin jackets, but clearly, he hadn’t gotten there quite yet. Maybe living in southern England had warmed him up a bit too much, or maybe adulthood had done it, but either way, he felt like the hearty cold-resistant Northerner he used to be had fully left his body. 

As Phil descended the stairs, the platform came into view, and when he saw the train stopped he ran towards the train as quickly as he could. He made it to the door as soon as they slid shut in his face, which was just his luck. Maybe his streak of good luck for today had run out, he thought, as a woman beyond the doors gave him a quick look of pity through the thick glass just before the train whisked itself away to the next stop. He sighed, his breath puffing out around him in a barely visible cloud of steam with the cold as he tried to figure out what to do. 

It was probably around ten minutes until the next train would arrive, and if he couldn’t find anything to occupy his time for the next ten minutes then he should just turn in his millennial badge and call it a day. For some reason his phone held no interest to him, and he was tempted to get his copy of The Outsider out of his bag and read it on the bench behind him, but a group of people gathered off to the left of the platform against the wall caught his eye. It wasn’t the usual sort of gathering that happened in London at this time; it looked like the people were there to see someone, and he figured it was some busker that had drawn their attention. Even still, his own curiosity was piqued and he felt himself walking towards the group before he could talk himself out of it. 

The people around him were nice enough to let him through to the front, and the man they were gathered around looked familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen him before. He was stunning, with dark brown curls on top of his head and a massive denim jacket and scarf swamping his skinny frame. He smiled widely when he saw Phil. “New friends gather round, let everyone have a turn at the front. Okay, just like I said earlier, we’re gonna hang out and sing some songs for a while, just have fun together, no pressure.” The man turned around for a moment to talk to the people standing behind him, one of them with a violin and the other with a small portable keyboard connected to a speaker. Four others were with him and the people with the instruments, and it was clear to Phil this man of his dreams was more than just a busker. 

Phil watched as the man started clapping a slow beat, and the singers behind him followed suit. What he was actually saying when he was singing didn’t matter, just watching him was plenty for Phil. He recognized the song from the NPR concert Mark had sent him earlier in the day, and he sounded even more amazing in real life than he did in Phil’s headphones. His voice was clear as a bell and surprisingly deep for someone of his build. 

All too quickly, the song was over and Phil’s arms felt slightly disconnected from his body as he started applauding with everyone else. He felt a little stupid that he didn’t remember the man’s name, so while there was a moment in between songs, Phil pulled his phone out and scrolled back through his work email to find the video Mark had sent him earlier in the day. He wasn’t entirely sure that it was the same man from the video, but when he pulled it up and compared them: yep, it was him. Daniel James was in the flesh in front of him performing in a dirty London T stop as if it was Carnegie Hall. Maybe Phil’s luck hadn’t run out after all. 

When Phil got back into the door of his apartment, he immediately threw his stuff down and ran to his home office, slightly cursing himself for being drawn back to a computer after being stuck at his work computer all day. He didn’t care though, he just wanted to learn more about Daniel, hear his voice again, even if it was through the shitty speakers of his iMac. For the rest of the night, he fell down a rabbit hole of videos; he watched music video after music video, all artfully produced with some kind of deep meaning Phil was surely too dumb for, a Carpool Karaoke, a short video of him singing a traditional Irish tune about whiskey, and even Daniel performing at the BBC with Bob fucking Dylan. Phil searched through his contacts to find Mark’s number, tapping his foot while he waited for his friend to pick up.

“Mark, you’re never going to believe this,” Phil said quickly without even bothering for pleasantries. “You know how you sent me a Tiny Desk Concert from NPR today?”

“Yeah, I sent you a Daniel James one right?” he asked around the food in his mouth.

“I saw him in the tube station by our office on my way home. He had a whole backing band and everything, well not a whole band but a keyboardist and someone with a violin and other singers, it was-” Phil stopped himself for a moment, trying to think of words to describe the performance. “It was incredible. No mics, no stage, nothing fancy. He was so talented, he made it seem effortless.” 

Mark laughed on the other end. “Isn’t it amazing? Seeing him in concert was probably the highlight of my year last year. I’m not fully convinced he’s not a forest nymph or something like that. I’m glad you liked the music, but it is midnight and we have to be to work in eight hours, so I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” Phil said, almost in a daze as he hung up the phone. Someone had already uploaded videos from the tube station to the internet, and Phil watched the videos over and over again in bed on his phone until nearly two in the morning. He had a video of one song on his own phone for Mark, but something about these videos was different. He could see the way that Daniel was looking around, and the way his eyes lingered on Phil for a moment longer than everyone else in the crowd. By two-thirty he’d convinced himself that he was imagining things, and put the idea as far back into his head as he could before finally getting himself ready to get a small amount of sleep before going back to work in a few hours. 

On the tube after he resurrected himself from the dead, it seemed like he’d almost forgotten about the previous day’s events, Daniel’s music playing in his headphones for most of the tube ride and his walk from the station. He was still mesmerized by him, by the almost mystical anonymity of the man he’d seen in person yesterday, mixed with the raw talent and clear popularity he had outside of the tube station in London. Yesterday, he’d appeared to be the complete opposite of the star that he was. 

Phil’s work email dinging on his phone pulled him out of his own thoughts, and when he checked it, he saw an email from his boss about the meeting that had gotten cancelled the day before, and a text from Mark that he’d missed somehow. The email from his boss could wait until he got to the office, but Mark’s text was just a link to a Twitter post. When he clicked on the link it was the absolute last thing he expected, and he wasn’t sure how to respond to it. 

__

_“Okay Twitter, I need your help. Looking for a man from our pop-up show yesterday, he had on a white sweatshirt and a denim jacket, black glasses, and had a Google ID badge around his neck. Mystery hot Google dude, if you somehow see this, DM me so we can get coffee together sometime! Preferably sooner rather than later”_

When Phil got to the Google building, he darted to the lift and jabbed the button for the sixth floor a dozen or so times, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that pushing the button more would make it go faster. Luckily, he was the only one in the lift and he didn’t need to make any unnecessary stops before Mark’s floor. He practically threw himself out of the lift and nearly ran into the door before he remembered that he had to swipe his ID before the door would open for him. He could see Mark’s head from the entrance of the floor and he quickly made his way over and sat down next to his friend. “Hey,” Phil said, slightly out of breath.

“So you saw it then?” Mark asked, clearly talking about the tweet. “Pretty sure you had on a white hoodie and a denim jacket yesterday.” 

“Yeah, I did, but like...are we sure it was me?

“Was there anyone else from Google at the platform yesterday?” Phil shook his head. “Okay, so that’s one thing narrowed down. Did anyone else have on a white hoodie with a plant on the front of it like yours?” 

“Probably not, I only had the one made.”

Mark nodded. “Okay, so piece two narrowed down. If my eyes don’t deceive me, you wear black glasses, and you never take your lanyard off until you get home, so if we’re doing this math right, it’s you who he’s looking for. We’re tech geeks, we’re generally good at math.”

Phi sat in stunned silence for a moment. “What do I say? How do I talk to him and not sound like a dork?” 

Mark gave him an incredulous glance. “You’re a senior software engineer for Google who has a framed photo of Buffy on his desk. Kind of checking all the boxes next to the word ‘dork’ here.” 

He swatted his friend’s shoulder a little. “You know what I mean, how do I not put my foot in my mouth? He’s a megastar and I’m just...”

Mark spun his chair to face Phil, leaning forward with a serious look on his face. “You’re the guy who caught his eye out of all the people he’s met doing these pop up shows. Be yourself, that’s what won you your promotion, wasn’t it?” 

Phil sighed out of frustration and raked his fingers through his hair. “Okay fine, what should I say back? Should I reply to the tweet first before messaging him?” His phone buzzed with a text from his brother, and all it had in it was a question mark and a link to another tweet, a reply to the original. Someone had screencapped one of the videos of the performance and circled Phil in the screencap, theorizing that it was Phil that Daniel was looking for. “Great, now my brother knows. Someone found me on the video.” 

“Did Daniel reply to the photo?”

Phil scrolled through the replies until he found one from Daniel confirming that Phil was, in fact, the person he was searching for. “Yeah, it’s definitely me.” 

Mark clapped his hands quietly and motioned to Phil’s phone in his hand. “There we go, now we know for sure. Just relax, okay? You’re overthinking all of this. Take the lift up to your floor, take a few deep breaths, have your coffee, sit at your desk and pretend to work for the first two hours of the day just like we always do. Everything will work itself out, I promise. Don’t blow a chance like this, Phil.” 

The short lift ride up to the tenth floor did little to calm his nerves, and if anything his coffee made him more anxious about what to do. When he settled into his desk and tried to actually get some work done, his mind kept wandering to the tweet and what Mark had said to him. He couldn’t let himself be limited by his own fears. Who knew when something like this would happen to him again?

Finally, after an hour and a half of going back and forth with himself (and not doing anything that he was actually supposed to be doing) he replied to the original tweet, then immediately closed out Twitter and sat back for a second. 

__

_“@danieljamesmusic mystery hot google dude reporting! my actual name is phil, but whatever you’d like to call me is fine by me. Is today too soon for coffee? I know a great coffee shop near my work, and i’ve got a free hour for lunch today.” _

After about twenty minutes, he thought that his phone was going to explode with how much it was going off because of the tweet. He shut it off and purposefully left it in the top drawer of his desk so he wouldn’t be tempted before he went into an alignment meeting with the other project leaders, and for a moment it felt like he forgot about this whole thing. The meeting went well, from what Phil remembered. He was more interested in doodling in his notebook he carried around with him than actually paying too much attention. He was fairly certain that he knew what the goals of this month’s piece of the update were, and he had his team working on the goals they’d set for themselves last week. His doodling was interrupted when his work email pinged on his laptop seven times in succession with emails from various people around his floor and an email from Mark, asking him what was going on. He muted his laptop speakers and opened Mark’s email, marking the other ones as ‘read’ just because he couldn’t deal with everyone knowing his business.

It was partially his own fault that everyone knew, because he’d replied on Twitter, which was the modern-day equivalent of message boards posted in the middle of town. When he was responding to Mark’s email, he reminded himself that this is why he didn’t talk about his personal life too much in the office: it only caused problems and made Phil wildly uncomfortable. He glanced over the top of his laptop through the glass wall of the conference room and saw a couple of his coworkers craning their necks over their desktops to stare at Phil, hoping he’d answer their email. Phil just rolled his eyes playfully at them and turned back to the last few minutes of his meeting. 

Eventually, he figured he should check his phone again just in case Daniel replied. He sat still for a moment with his phone still off in his hand, trying to work up the courage to turn it back on again. It buzzed to life in his hand, and the first thing that he saw when it turned back on was a direct message from the man of the hour himself. Immediately, he got up to go down to Mark’s floor, but stopped himself because he knew Mark was in a meeting. He sat down again and sighed, reminding himself that he was a big boy and he could formulate his own reply without his friend’s help. 

After a few minutes of back and forth between Daniel and Phil, they’d agreed on the little coffeeshop Phil loved by his office building, an artsy place where he only saw other millenials. Phil stopped there every morning on his way to work, so he figured that being in a place he was familiar with would help calm his frazzled nerves. 

Someone knocking on the white top of his desk beside him startled him slightly. It was Hazel, who also worked on his floor, standing next to him with a file in her hand and a wide, knowing smile on her face. “So, what’s the plan for today?” 

“The rescheduled progress meeting?” Phil asked. “That’s at the same time that it always is, two forty-five to three-thirty. Just today instead of yesterday.”

“No, you dummy! Your plan for your lunch today! Everyone’s been talking about it,” she said as she laid the file down on Phil’s desk. “These are the numbers from the survey, by the way. We got a sample of 150,000 people, give or take.” 

Phil rolled his eyes as he quickly scanned the survey results she’d handed him. “Yeah, well, if we could stop gossiping about my personal life that would be great.” 

Hazel pouted at him for a moment. “You’re no fun sometimes, you know that?” 

Phil laughed a little. “Hey, I’m plenty of fun, just not when people decide to pry into my life.” He set the folder onto his desk and leaned back in his chair again to look up at Hazel. “Anyways, thank you for these numbers, I forgot to ask about these yesterday before we left.”

It felt like an eternity before 12:30 rolled around, and when it did Phil practically rocketed out of his seat and grabbed his jacket and bag. Kiera smiled knowingly at him when he passed her to get in the lift, giving him a wink and a “go get ‘em, tiger!” as the door slid shut. Normally, when Phil was walking anywhere he’d put his headphones in to distract himself, but today he took in the noise of the arts district as he walked his way through the blustery wind and funky shops that lined the streets. 

Once he made it to the coffee shop he’d texted Dan about, he stood in front of the door nervously tapping his foot and straightening his glasses, his jacket, his shoelaces, literally everything he could in an attempt to look as perfect as possible. How in the world was this his life, he wondered as someone approached him from his left and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped slightly, then took a second to let his brain catch up with itself before he realized it was Dan. The cold had turned Dan’s cheeks and the tip of his nose an adorable rosy red colour, and his body was warm as he reached out for a quick hug. 

“So sorry I’m a little late, I walked to the wrong bus stop,” Dan said as he held the door to the coffee shop open for Phil. 

“That’s totally okay, I got off at the wrong tube stop yesterday. Had to walk four blocks back home,” Phil laughed nervously, his eyes scanning the menu board but barely processing what was written on the board. It all looked like gibberish, but everything came into perfect focus when Dan placed his hand gently on the small of Phil’s back. 

“So what’s the best food to get here?” Dan asked, his contagious smile lighting up the shop better than the bright midday sun ever could, and his Irish accent making Phil’s heart stop for a moment. 

“Oh um - they make a really good vegan burger here. The avocado toast is good too.” 

Dan nodded once and his hand left Phil’s back for a brief moment while he reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet. “Get me a soy latte, some of the avocado toast, and whatever else you want, I’m buying. I’ll go grab that table by the window, yeah?” 

Phil nodded and tried to deny Dan’s card, but he pushed the black plastic into his hand and smiled again. “I was the one who asked you out on your lunch break today, I’ll pay. Don’t worry about it.” 

He nodded again and tried to calm himself down a little as he waited in the short line. The barista smiled at him when he stepped up to the bar, and she giggled when she saw his expression. “So he found you, did he?” 

“Yeah, something like that. Not really sure how this is my life,” he said, then he ordered for the both of them. When he tried to give Dan’s card to the barista, she waved her hand. 

“On the house for today. Our little treat.” 

Phil murmured a thank you before he sat down at the table by the window, across from Dan’s gorgeous smiling face. If Phil made it through this date without combusting, it would be a miracle. 

“Welcome back,” Dan said when Phil sat down and took his backpack and jacket off. He took one of Phil’s hands across the table, the warmth of his skin soaking into Phil’s. “You’re still freezing, how long were you standing outside?”

Phil shrugged and smiled back at Dan. “Not long, maybe fifteen minutes? I wanted to make sure you got here alright before I went inside.”

“What a gentleman of you. So do you actually work for Google or are you just a fan?” he asked Phil as one of the baristas brought their coffee to them. 

“Yes, I do, I’m a senior software engineer. I’ve been in the field for around seven years but just got promoted to senior status. And what about you, how did you get into music?” Phil asked.

“I saved up to learn how to play the piano and once I started learning one instrument, I just sort of...fell in love with it. I tried to learn as many instruments as I can, especially when we moved from Reading to Dublin. Once we moved to Ireland, music became my everything.” 

“Ah, that explains the accent. How many instruments do you play?” 

“Five, and I write all my own songs too.” 

For the rest of their lunch, they talked about everything and nothing, it seemed, and once they were done, Phil held the door open for Dan as the blustery cold hit them like walking into a wall. Dan shivered a little and held onto Phil’s arm, huddling a bit closer to him to conserve their heat. The entire afternoon, it felt like Phil couldn’t think straight, for so many reasons. Not the least of which was the fact that he, of all people, had caught this amazing man’s eye, that something about him made Dan track him down. 

He also hoped that this wasn’t the last time they saw each other. Dan was probably busier than Phil was, and Phil had a nine-to-five job that kept him in London most of the year. How would they manage everything if they decided to keep whatever this was going? 

Dan bumped his shoulder against Phil’s and smiled at him. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Phil smiled back at Dan and laughed a little bit. “Just overthinking, as usual.”

“About what? If overthinking was a job, I’d be the richest man in the world.” 

Phil hesitated for a moment before telling Dan. “Just that things like this don’t happen to people like me.” He stopped walking when they reached the weird art piece outside of the Google building, Dan letting go of Phil’s arm and standing in front of him. He still held onto one of Phil’s hands, his thumb running over Phil’s knuckles gently. 

“Wow, has an hour with little old me changed your world that much?” Dan asked, something in his voice changing. He settled both of Phil’s hands onto his hips and wound his arms around Phil’s neck loosely, holding Phil into his personal space. Phil’s brain definitely went into short-circuit mode then, only halfway processing what was happening as he and Dan stood there for a few seconds without saying anything. “What do you say we get together again tonight for dinner. My place? Why not keep a good thing going.” 

“Daniel James, are you coming onto me?” Phil asked with the same cheeky tone Dan was giving him. 

“Maybe just a little bit. But that doesn’t answer my question. Vegan sushi at my place tonight?” Phil nodded a few times, probably a little too eagerly, but Dan didn’t seem to care. He only smiled wider before he leaned in and pressed his lips against Phil’s in a chaste kiss. It was over before Phil realized it was happening, and he felt like he was floating for a second afterwards. Dan clearing his throat brought him back down to reality and Dan winked, wrapping his arms fully around Phil and hugging him again. The mood shifted again back to the same flirty kind of friendliness they’d had between each other during their lunch. “I’ll text you the address, okay?”

“O-Okay, yeah. Sure.” Phil said in a daze, and Dan giggled a little bit before pressing his warm lips against Phil’s cheek and disappearing out of the courtyard, presumably back to the bus stop or something. Phil stood there for a second before he nodded once resolutely and turned to walk back into his office building. He tried to keep his cool as he stood in the lift, even though his heart was still hammering out of his chest, and when the doors slid open on his floor, Kiera stood up from behind her desk.

“Well?! How was it?!” she asked excitedly, leaning her chin on one of her hands.

“Huh?” Phil asked. 

“Your date! How was it?”

“Oh, fine. It went fine.” Phil said quickly. 

She held her hands up in confusion. “That’s it? Just fine?” 

He nodded and slid his card to let him through to his desk. “Yep, just fine.” Phil sat somewhat curtly as he rushed to sit back down at his desk again. God, he really did hate talking about his personal life around his coworkers. 

When Phil finally sat back down in his office chair, it felt like his entire lunch hour had been a figment of his imagination. He was back to thinking about the fact that things like this didn’t happen to people like him. He was just a regular guy, with a regular job and an overall normal life. How in the world was this happening to him? Once again, someone knocking on his desk pulled him out of his thoughts, and this time he was met with Mark’s knowing smirk. Phil hated him sometimes. 

“So. How did lunch go?” he asked cheekily, clearly trying to bait Phil into talking. 

Phil laughed quietly. “It went really well. You’ll be happy to know that I’m seeing him again after work. I’m going to leave early after floor ten’s progress meeting this afternoon.”

Mark pushed him on the shoulder a couple of times and Phil could feel himself blushing. “See? What did I tell you? Being yourself clearly worked if you’re seeing him again on the same day.”

“I guess so. And I already know what you’re going to say, I definitely should listen to you more often. Now do you have anything work-related for me or are we going to keep talking about my personal life, which you know I hate doing?”

“Little bit of both, I need help with a couple of pieces of the update that I have, but I want every detail of what happened during your lunch hour today.”

“Work first, you know the rules.” Phil quipped as Mark pulled a chair up beside Phil and set his laptop down for Phil to talk him through what he was missing in his coding. “Now, as I’m doing this, you get three questions about my lunch,” Phil said as he looked at the laptop through the bottom of his thick glasses, his nose tipped up in a way that his dad always hated.

“Oh God, I have to make them good then. Okay, question one, where did you guys go to eat?” he asked, watching as Phil fixed bits and pieces of his code for him.

“We went to Whole Bean Coffee over on Front Street. That’s one question down, you’ve got two more.” 

Mark chuckled beside him. “You know that I can’t think this fast! Question two, who paid? Wait, hold on, what did you do there?” he asked as he leaned in and pointed at the line of code Phil had just written into Mark’s Dreamweaver program.

“See how when I hit ‘Run’, the toolbar over here moves to a really weird spot?” Phil asked in response, running the program to show Mark what he was talking about. “Your padding measurement was off and it was conflicting with the constraints you’d set, that’s why it was ending up in the wrong spot. I adjusted the padding measurement and moved the bounds of the constraints out just a smidge to keep everything in line. And he was the one who paid. Well, he offered to pay, but the barista recognized him and gave us our food and coffees for free.” 

“Okay, that makes sense, thank you. I only have one question left, right?” 

“Unless you pull out another work-related question, yes. Make it count,” Phil said. 

“Do you think you two have something or is this just a fling?” 

Phil barked out a surprised laugh and looked at his friend again. “Wow, pulling out the big guns with your last question, huh?” He hit ‘Run’ one more time on the program just to make sure everything was working properly now, then turned back to Mark. “If I’m being optimistic, then this will turn into something more, because it definitely feels like we have a real connection.”

“I feel a ‘but’ coming on,” Mark said as he faked wincing in pain.

Phil leaned into it slightly. “_But_, what if this is just a fling for him and I’m wrapped up in the fact that he is who he is? What if I’m making this out to be bigger than it needs to be?” 

Mark rolled his eyes at Phil. “You’re trying to talk yourself out of it. Do you like him?” Phil nodded. “Okay great, does he like you?” 

“I mean, he kissed me outside the building when we said goodbye so I would hope so.” 

“Then why are you worried?” 

Phil gently gripped his hair in his fingers out of frustration. “Because I’m me and I’m _going_ to find some way to mess this up. That’s what happened with the last guy I tried to date, I put work first and messed up our relationship up pretty royally before it’d even started.” 

“Then be up front and tell him that. ‘Hey, I just want you to know that my work is really important to me right now, is that cool with you?’ is a perfect way to approach that conversation. You’re freaking out over something that hasn’t even happened yet.”

Phil sighed and nodded. “You’re right, you’re right.” He glanced at the clock on his computer and looked back at his friend. “But right now it’s time for floor six’s progress meeting. You’re officially late for it, actually.”

Mark waved his hand as he stood up to leave. “I’m always fashionably late, you know this by now.”

“Yes I do, and it annoys the crap out of me,” Phil called after Mark who was slowly walking towards the lift. “What do I always say? Early is on time, Mark!” 

“Shut up, Phil!” his friend called back to him. Phil laughed and turned back to his own work, his mood significantly calmer than it was before. Mark always had that impact on him, he was able to bring Phil back down to earth a lot faster than most other people could. 

During the floor ten progress meeting, Phil was fidgeting in his seat the whole time. Hazel and a couple of other people were casting knowing glances in his direction as he tried his best to play it cool. The notes that he took during the meeting were most likely useless, but he’d get them from someone else on Thursday morning and just come up with some excuse for why the project leader wasn’t paying attention. It would be a terrible excuse no doubt, because Phil was always a terrible liar, but he hoped it’d be believable enough that no one would bother him about it. 

Finally, finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity of a workday it was three-thirty; officially, it was time for Phil to go home and then rush over to Dan’s place. Phil hadn’t checked the address Dan had sent, and as he was on the tube back home, he finally noticed that Dan lived a block away from him. He’d probably walked past Dan’s building hundreds of times. Maybe he’d passed by Dan on the street before and never known it was him. 

Today Phil paid a lot better attention to the stops and got off at the one right by his house, taking the stairs up to his flat two at a time to get there as fast as he possibly could. For a solid half hour when he got in the door, Phil fussed over what to wear. He wanted to make sure that he looked perfect, because this was serious now. This was the make or break time, the moment where things could go really right or really wrong, and he wasn’t sure which way he hoped it would go. Of course, most of him wanted this to go amazingly right, but a tiny piece of himself lingered on the hope that this would be it. That after tonight, his normal life could resume once again, and he could go back to being an anonymous employee at Google and nothing more. He still wasn’t sure if all this attention was for him, but when he shut his eyes and took a deep breath, all he could see was Dan’s smile, all he could hear was Dan’s laugh, and he knew that this was absolutely the right thing. 

The walk to Dan’s building was both blessedly short and entirely too short at the same time, and he found himself jamming the lift button like he would at work trying to get the lift to speed up. When the bell dinged for the fourth floor, Phil made sure to take yet another deep breath to try to calm himself down. His nerves felt like they were on fire, and it felt like it wasn’t actually his hand that knocked on Dan’s door. Time stood still for a moment before he was greeted with that stunning smile, and suddenly none of his fears mattered anymore. 

“Hi, handsome,” Dan said as he stood aside and let Phil in. “How was the rest of your day?” 

“Even better now that I’m here,” Phil said, shrugging out of his denim jacket and hanging it on the rack beside the door. He made sure to take his shoes off, nearly tripping and falling out of them as he did so. Luckily, Dan didn’t notice, his back turned to Phil as he checked the food Phil could smell from the door. 

Dan’s flat was gorgeous, with exposed brick walls and dark wood floors all throughout. The furniture was a little mismatched and dated but somehow it all flowed together, and the artwork on the walls was woodsy and almost as ethereal as Dan himself. A big vintage record player that took up one corner of the room was playing a Blind Pilot album, and an entire wall in the lounge was devoted to Dan’s record collection. There were a few soft blankets and pillows draped across the sofa and chairs in the room as well, giving everything a cozy feel. 

“Can I fix you a drink?” Dan called, and Phil followed the sound of his voice into the kitchen. 

“Yeah, whatever you’d like is fine with me.” Phil said as he cozied up beside Dan. “What are we cooking tonight, Chef Howell?” 

“Well, Mr. Google, we’ve got a lovely aubergine tempura, and some vegan California rolls,” Dan said, and the way he’d addressed Phil as ‘Mr. Google’ made him laugh. 

“That all sounds and smells amazing. And, just for future reference my surname is Lester. Google works too though, whatever you want.” Dan handed Phil a small glass with a map of Ireland on it with an amber liquid in it, and when he took a sip a smooth whiskey passed down his throat. “This is true Irish whiskey, isn’t it? It’s amazing.” 

Dan nodded as he leaned against the counter nonchalantly with his own drink in his hand. “Yep, it’s a brand called Teeling. Everyone always makes a big fuss about Jameson’s, but Teeling is miles better. It’s made in much smaller batches and aged for longer, so it’s got a smoother flavor.” When he was done, he raised his own glass slightly for a toast. “Sláinte mhath mo chara,” he said as he and Phil clinked their glasses and both took a sip. Hearing Dan speak in what was presumably Gaeilge made Phil’s heart jump in his chest. God he was so head over heels for this man, it was unbelievable. 

“What do you say we get to assembling all of this, huh?” Dan said as he pushed himself up off the counter and stepped past Phil, dropping a quick kiss against Phil’s lips as he did. He tried to walk away, but in a sudden burst of confidence, Phil gently tangled his fingers into the front of Dan’s shirt and held him there to deepen the kiss for a moment. His fears of literally exploding where he stood from earlier in the day were long gone, the only thing occupying his mind now how right this felt, how good and easy and natural it was. 

Dan had a shit eating smirk on his face when they let go of each other. “Didn’t your mum ever tell you that desert comes after dinner?” 

Phil shrugged with a similar smirk. “We’re adults, we can have just a little taste I think.” 

Dan laughed and quickly kissed Phil again before turning back to their food. “You’re a funny one, Phil Lester.” The conversation between them as they made their sushi was easy, as if this were completely normal for the both of them. They were laughing until their sides hurt when Phil destroyed a California roll as he was trying to roll it up, but luckily Dan was able to salvage it and make it somewhat presentable. It ended up tasting fine, even if it looked awful, and Dan kept the whiskey and good music flowing through the night. Phil made sure to pace himself on the alcohol, so that he only had a slight buzz going when Dan stopped himself mid-sentence to just look at Phil. 

“You have the most gorgeous eyes, you know that?” he murmured, his lips hovering impossibly close to Phil’s. “They’re like three colors at the same time.” Phil felt so unbelievably small under Dan’s intense stare, and he could feel his skin heating up under Dan’s touch as he gently took Phil’s face in his hands and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. Phil set his drink down on the small table beside them and set his hands on Dan’s shoulders, pulling himself into Dan’s lap right there in the lounge. Dan didn’t seem to mind, moving himself back a little to accommodate. Eventually they found themselves in the bedroom, their bodies moving together so naturally that it felt like this was how it was supposed to be all along. 

Phil collapsed against Dan after they’d both finished, their foreheads pressed together and their warm breath fanning against each others’ faces. Dan’s hands smoothed up and down Phil’s sides, making Phil shiver slightly. He pressed a kiss against Dan’s forehead as he felt strong arms wrap around him, and they sat there for a moment in the afterglow. Phil’s entire world seemed like it was consumed by this moment, and he never wanted to leave this perfect bubble they’d built for themselves. 

Dan shifted slightly underneath him, and Phil got off of him and laid down on the bed beside Dan, shimmying underneath the blankets as the slight draft cooled his warm skin. “You just keep finding new ways to blow my mind, don’t you?” Phil joked as his eyes followed Dan around the room after he’d put his glasses back on.

Dan laughed and sat on the edge of the bed as he slipped on a pair of pajama pants. “Nah, I think you’ve got it wrong, that’s you,” he said with a sweetly sincere undertone to his voice, laying down so his head was in Phil’s lap. “Stay over tonight?” he asked, with a tiny hint of insecurity that Phil hadn’t heard from him. He was so sure and strong in who he was, and hearing a slight break in the exterior made Phil realize that Dan wanted to make this work just as bad as he did. 

“I have work in the morning, but definitely,” Phil said, his fingers tangling in Dan’s curls as a gorgeous smile lit up Dan’s face. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss the smile on Dan’s face. “How did I get so lucky?” 

Dan giggled and covered his face as a blush crept up his cheeks. “I think I should be the one asking that.” He pushed himself up and sat across from Phil, crossing his legs and taking Phil’s hands. “Thank you, Phil. I know that this was a huge chance for you to take, responding to some weird not-famous famous dude’s thirst Tweet, but-” 

Phil cut him off by kissing him again. “I don’t care. This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, it doesn’t matter if it was because of a tweet or a conversation in a bar or anything else. If I wasn’t totally on board I wouldn’t have responded to you, would I? And hey, it makes for a pretty good story, doesn’t it?” 

“That’s very true. Here, let me grab you some clothes, you’re shivering.” Dan said as he got back up off the bed and grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie for Phil. “Sorry, this place is super old so it’s drafty in the winter.” 

“No worries, I understand. Yknow what would warm both of us up, though?” Phil asked, leaning a little closer to Dan, and they both sat there for a moment before Dan answered him.

“More sex?” 

Phil threw his head back and belly laughed at that, and when he’d relaxed a little, he realized Dan was laughing too. “I mean yes, but I was thinking more along the lines of whiskey.” 

Dan gently smacked Phil in the chest. “Right! Right, totally what I was thinking too,” he joked as he got up and took one of the blankets with him off his bed. He looked so funny standing in his kitchen with the blanket draped over his shoulders like a massive furry cape, and once again Phil couldn’t believe that this was his life. 

After their third drinks of the night and some conversation on the couch, Dan stood up from where he was settled with his head in Phil’s lap again and held his hands out. “Dance with me,” he demanded, pulling Phil up by the hand that wasn’t holding his whiskey. 

“What? I can’t dance,” Phil protested, and Dan waved his hand and set Phil’s drink down on the coffee table.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll lead. Come on,” he said, resting one of his hands on Phil’s waist and holding the other one up by their heads. “Just listen to the music and follow me.”

Phil chuckled. “You are something, Daniel Howell,” he murmured. 

“So are you, Philip Lester.” 

They both fell silent after that, listening to the Norah Jones album Dan had put on and awkwardly swaying around Dan’s lounge. The moment was so intimate and sweet, and Phil loved that Dan felt this comfortable with him already. 

“Do you believe in fate?” Phil asked, breaking the silence between them. “Like, I never usually believe in things like fate or a higher power or anything like that. But, if my meeting at work yesterday afternoon hadn’t been cancelled, I never would’ve seen you, and you never would’ve posted that tweet, and my coworker would never have sent it to me, and none of this would be happening.”

Dan thought for a moment, his face contemplative and calm. “I’m not sure, but I think that yesterday and today happened the way they needed to, because this needed to happen. I technically wasn’t even supposed to have that show yesterday, but we got the permit from the city of London yesterday morning and sort of threw it together at the last second.” He smiled at Phil softly. “Maybe I do believe in fate now.” 

“I think I do too,” Phil said before he kissed Dan for what felt like the millionth time that night.

**Author's Note:**

> drop me a line: starboydjh.tumblr.com
> 
> fuel my coffee addiction: ko-fi.com/hadley
> 
> hozier performance that inspired this fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ik1mgLyjn-I
> 
> "Sláinte mhath mo chara" = "cheers to us, my friend," pronounced slancha va muh cara


End file.
